And All Things Between
by Li the Twilight Knight
Summary: A collection of one-shots and short-stories, some AU, some not, about the Reapers of Kuroshitsuji and their various relationships. Multiple pairings and interesting situations abound. Heaven and Hell might be the far ends of the spectrum, but there's lots of space between for mischief.
1. Records

So I decided that as my other collection of oneshots is primarily Sebastian and Ciel, I'd do a separate collection for the reapers. I've become rather fond of the reapers, mostly due to the influence of my girlfriend and some really lovely fic-writers over on Tumblr, so this was sort of an inevitability. X'D As in the other collection, this first chapter is going to stand as a kind of table of contents, because I'm sure I'll end up writing oneshots that fall into the same 'verse at some point.

Also, I write far more NSFW stuff for the reapers. So be prepared. XP

As always, everyone, enjoy!

* * *

**Smut oneshots **- specifically the ones that have sex or sexual content in them, most of which were written for the kink meme

"Binding" (AlanxEric), "Blade" (GrellxAlan), "Captivity" (All reapers, Sebastian)


	2. Protocol

A/N: This was written for Allana690 over on Tumblr, for being a magically patient person and putting up with asks going wrong for at least two weeks. She's a major Grelliam fan, and while that's not what I usually write, I thought some thanks were in order. ^_^ Enjoy!

Summary: _"Sutcliffe, this has to stop."_

* * *

**Protocol**

When William first saw her, he almost didn't recognize her.

There had been trouble with the Board again. Grell had pushed the rules too far, gotten just a bit too out-of-control, and had been threatened with termination from the London office if she did not meet the "professional standards" that the Board worked so hard to enforce worldwide. If she was forced to "retire" from the Shinigami Dispatch Society, she would be banished to the mortal world, and William had heard no end to her complaining after she found out about that particular part of "retirement".

He had made the offhanded comment that if she wished to stay, she might actually have to listen to him for once and follow the rules. Keeping to the rules to the letter would ensure that the Board was placated, and would allow her to keep her job. And if there was one thing Grell loved as much as red and chasing after men, it was her job. But he hadn't expected her to take him quite so seriously.

He hadn't seen her in a suit since they'd become Seniors and were able to fully take advantage of interpreting the dress code. He chose not to interpret at all, preferring the clean black suit and elegant black tie done in a perfect Windsor knot. But Grell had become a magnificent blur of red, pushing the limits of acceptable attire completely out the window, and so it was startling to see black cloth covering her slim figure for the first time in a century. She was dressed to the nines in a perfectly pressed suit near-identical to his own, black tie done up neatly. Her hair had been done up in a complicated bun circled with braids, taming all of her long tresses into something more workplace appropriate. And when she stepped into his office, she greeted him with a calm, "Good morning, William."

William blinked at her. It was definitely still Grell; she was the only one who didn't call him "Mr. Spears" or "senpai". But the professional appearance was jarring after years of flamboyant red.

"Good morning, Sutcliffe…" he managed, still staring.

She set a stack of paperwork on his desk, continuing, "There's a few more things for me to get done, but I'll have them ready before I go out on my next reap."

William continued to stare.

Grell finally noticed, a hint of her playful nature glimmering in her eyes. "Oh my. Is something wrong, Will?"

"I didn't expect you to…actually take my comment about following the rules to heart." He tried to mask his confusion and the vaguely unsettled feeling he had with his usual indifferent mask. "To take it so far as actually following the dress code…"

"I like my job, Will. And if the Board's trying to take it away…" Grell said, trailing off. "I can still be me when I'm out reaping. I'm not giving up my scythe. But if this is what it takes to stay here…" The 'with you' was implied but went unsaid. William knew how she felt.

And really, he couldn't say much in response. He let her leave his office, watched her bring in the remainder of the paperwork before going on her reaps for the day, and received the last reports that she brought after returning, before going home for the evening. And despite the fact that all of her work was done and there was no reason for him to be stressed, there was still an odd sense of discontent lurking in the back of his mind.

xXx

Her new, proper, protocol-driven behavior continued the rest of the week, and while it still unsettled William slightly, it was starting to put the rest of the office out of sorts too. Ronald could be heard complaining to the other Juniors that his mentor wasn't any fun anymore, and Eric moped because his partner-in-crime wasn't willing to play along with his practical jokes. Eric's moping put Alan out of sorts, and the whole office was beginning to spiral into a mess. William knew something had to be done.

That didn't mean he was looking forward to it.

He called her into his office that afternoon, and as she shut the door behind her, she gave him a curious smile. "What is it, Will? Surely you're not planning anything untoward, now that you've got me alone in your office?" Her flirting with him was the only thing that hadn't gone away completely, and for once, he was marginally grateful.

"Sutcliffe, this has to stop."

She blinked at him, and he realized she wasn't wearing as much makeup as she used to either. "What has to stop, darling? I assure you, I've been following the rules to the letter."

"Yes, that," William said impatiently. "That's what has to stop. It isn't you, and your behavior is upsetting your coworkers and causing unnecessary stress for the office."

It was Grell's turn to stare, her expression full of incredulous disbelief. "You're…upset because I'm following the rules, Will?"

"Yes, I am." He was well aware of the hypocrisy of the statement, but continued regardless, "I hate to say it but you are even more of a distraction now. Your sudden strict adherence to the rules is unsettling and it is difficult to work in such conditions. I much preferred you as a flamboyant troublemaker than this prim and proper illusion you have going."

"But you've always wanted me to follow the rules more," Grell objected, though a smile was creeping across her face.

"Yes, well, I've decided I don't like it. Consistency is just as important as order in an office." Will frowned, and before he realized what he was saying, he added, "And you're not yourself when you're like this. I much prefer the real you."

Grell reached up and pulled the pins loose from her hair, letting it tumble down her back. "Do you, now?" She leaned over the desk, into his personal space, and he decided that he'd already bungled this far more than intended, and a little more wouldn't hurt.

"I do," he replied, reaching out to grab her tie. "You're not _my_ Grell when you're like this." And he crushed their lips together. She responded immediately, practically climbing over the desk to settle in his lap, returning the kiss feverishly. When they finally broke apart, William ran a hand through her hair, managing a small smirk at the giddy look on her face. "Do you understand, Sutcliffe?"

"I think so, _Mr. Spears_~" Grell purred, kissing him again. And really, even though it was the middle of the workday, he couldn't bring himself to complain about the wasted time.

xXx

She was back to normal the next day, in her bright red coat and heels, swishing about the office with all of her usual charisma. Eric and Ronald had both lit up upon seeing her, and the three of them were soon engaged in launching paper hornets at each other over the tops of the desks, interrupting each other's paperwork.

William, for once, didn't have the heart to reprimand them. He did, however, wander over in the middle of the mock war, retrieving Grell's finished paperwork and allowing her to peck him on the lips without complaint.

The looks on Slingby and Knox's faces were completely worth it.


	3. Party

A/N: This is a bunch of tiny ideas that I attempted to string together coherently. X'D So it's not the best thing ever, but hopefully it's at least amusing.

Summary: _Maybe this was why William never enjoyed the parties._

* * *

**Party**

The office hosted four major parties a year, like clockwork. Christmas, and then one each in spring, summer, and fall, usually on the solstices for the sake of regularity. All other holidays were celebrated at the discretion of individual members of the Dispatch.

However, these parties were usually held in one of the few pubs in the reaper realm. This time, for some reason, it was actually being held in the office, much to William's chagrin. But he supposed he couldn't say much, so long as nothing was irreparably damaged and they stayed out of his office. He spotted Ronald Knox, the newest member of the London office, and Eric Slingby in the center of a large group of girls from General Affairs, drinking in the attention like starving men. Nuisances, the both of them. He didn't see Alan Humphries, but the usually-soft-spoken reaper wasn't one to draw undue attention at parties. And Grell…

Grell appeared at his elbow as if thinking about him had magicked him into existence, proffering a drink that was nearly the same color as his hair. "I brought you something, Will!" He was wearing a long red gown, sleeveless, with matching red silk gloves.

Eyeing the glass suspiciously, William accepted it with a hesitant hand. "What, pray tell, is in this, Sutcliffe?"

"Cinnamon liquor, lemon-lime soda water, and grenadine," Grell explained, beaming. "It's called an Avalanche. I've been teaching the bartender to make them." He neglected to mention that he'd learned the recipe from a demon friend of his, knowing William wouldn't approve at all.

"Hm." William took a sip, finding the taste surprisingly acceptable. "This isn't bad, Sutcliffe." Grell giggled at the praise and waved, hurrying off to chat with one of the lads from Spectacles, and William took another drink. Not bad at all.

xXx

Ronald found himself with General Affairs all to himself, as Eric had disappeared about an hour into the party. The Junior reaper looked over and spotted Alan crossing the room with a cup of punch in one hand, and called cheerfully, "Hey, Alan-sempai, come hang out with us!"

Alan just waved, offering a small smile and a shake of his head before continuing on his way. All the girls around Ronald tittered with laughter.

"He's not overly fond of parties," one said, giggling. "Besides, he's probably looking for Eric~"

Ronald laughed. "Well, he's not too bright, turning down the company of such lovely ladies!"

"Oh, Ronnie!" another girl laughed. "You haven't been here long enough to know~ Alan's not into General Affairs."

Blinking, Ronald stared for a moment, and all the girls laughed as realization dawned on his face. He turned faintly pink, and didn't mention it again, even when Eric rejoined the group about twenty minutes later and resumed flirting like nothing was amiss.

xXx

Four glasses of Avalanche later, William found himself seated at a table in one of the conference rooms, watching several Juniors dancing on the other end of the long table. He wasn't sure where they'd gotten the boom box, but that wasn't important.

"Slingby and Knox…" he muttered, slurring his words slightly, "'ave no respect f'r authority. They were playing cricket in th' hallway last week… In the hallway!"

Beside him, Lawrence Anderson nodded sagely, sipping at his own gin and tonic. "Terrible influence on the other Juniors." Honestly, too many of them were coming to Spectacles asking if they could get 'cool glasses like Ronald's'. Lawrence had had about enough.

"And Slingby it's not s'bad. I can just tell'im he's got overtime and then he has to do overtime but Knox has those stupid endearing puppy eyes and no one can bloody repremand'im like'at…" William was to the point of rambling a bit. He was quiet for a minute or two, before complaining morosely, "No one appreciates all the paperwork!" and laying his head on the table.

Lawrence just looked at him for a moment, wondering if he should be taking pictures.

xXx

A few hours later, Eric bid goodnight to Ronald, who was going home with two girls, and set out to look for Alan. He had a hunch about where he'd find the younger reaper, and was proven right when he located him in a quiet break room, drinking a pina colada and reading a book. But the strange part was the fact that Grell was also on the sofa with him, sprawled across Alan's lap and using both the brunet's legs and one of the throw pillows to cushion his head. Eric stared for a moment, baffled, and Alan looked up and offered a sheepish smile.

"He just sort of wandered in and laid down. He's not bothering me." Grell had always been affectionate towards the younger reaper, and when drunk, he was like a rather large cat, content to curl up and snooze in the other's lap.

Eric walked over to peck Alan on the lips, grinning. "He's prolly too drunk t' bother anyone else t'night. It's gettin' t'be a bit late. Y'ready t'go home?"

Alan nodded, and together they carefully maneuvered him off the couch without disturbing the sleeping redhead. Eric wrapped an arm around his shoulders, and just as they were turning to leave, William stumbled into the break room, looking barely coherent.

"Overtime, Slingby…" he slurred, pointing at the rather stunned reaper, before falling onto the other couch and promptly falling asleep.

Alan and Eric just sort of stared at each other for a moment, and then Eric promptly dragged Alan out of the break room, determined to get them home. "I don' even know what that was for, but hopefully he'll've forgotten by mornin'."

Maybe this was why William never enjoyed the parties.


	4. Puppy

A/N: Headcanon is that Grell mentored Eric. Or the other way around, but I more see Grell as being the older of the two of them. Grell also doesn't seem the sort to tolerate newbies well unless they're unexpectedly awesome. XDD

Summary: _Not a hint of mockery. Not a single mote of sarcasm. That was it. Grell was definitely fond of Ronald Knox._

* * *

**Puppy**

Grell Sutcliffe had never been particularly fond of mentoring Juniors. Sure, she was willing to teach them; her Advanced Reaping Techniques class was the talk of the Academy for many reasons. But once they'd passed their final and been assigned a mentor…ugh. Whenever she'd ended up with a youngster one-on-one, they were always sniveling and indecisive and irritating. So far, the only one she'd really enjoyed was Eric Slingby, her very first mentee. He'd been utterly incorrigible and gave her a run for her money, just as he now caused a daily twitch in William's eyebrows.

It was a damn shame that, a few decades later, she'd been busy with a particularly difficult month's worth of reaps when Alan Humphries had been assigned a mentor. He'd been the youngest in her class that year, small and fragile looking, and always terribly polite. But he had brilliant grades: A's across the board, and while he was just as polite and eager to please as any of the other Juniors, he had a strong will in him that Grell thought was wonderful. She was actually jealous of Eric for getting to mentor him, as his well-hidden spitfire temper was quite refreshing.

But eighteen or nineteen years later, a file landed on her desk one morning, and she looked up to meet William's gaze curiously as the supervisor adjusted his glasses.

"You've been assigned a mentee this year, Grell Sutcliffe," William said dryly. "Please do us all a favor and try to keep him from turning out like you and Mr. Slingby."

Grell giggled. "Oh, Will, you talk about me like I'm such a corrupting influence~!"

"That's because you are. Do try not to have a repeat of last time, either."

As William left her office, Grell thought back to her last mentee. Poor, timid little thing. He hadn't lasted more than a week under her wing before begging for a department switch. He was happily up in Spectacles now; though it was a well-kept secret that "Daddy", as some reapers had a tendency to refer to Lawrence Anderson when William wasn't around, could be just as bad as Grell, given the chance.

She flipped open the file, which had the neatly printed name "Ronald Knox" across the top, and began to look through it curiously. He seemed like a good enough kid. Boyish face, charming grin, half-dyed hair. Oh, General Affairs would be all over this one. He had nothing but A's and B's from the academy, had been labeled "too cheerful" by the ever-dour bunch that oversaw the final exams, and had apparently chosen a lawnmower as a death scythe. This caught her attention. Not many in the Collections department chose motorized scythes. Most preferred traditional bladed tools, like Will's pruner, or Alan's slasher, or that bloke who had the corner desk who carried around the giant pruning shears. Her own chainsaw was the only motorized one she could think of. But it seemed that was about to change. Maybe this kid would be a worthy mentee after all.

xXx

The next morning, she found Ronald waiting for her outside the door to her office. Sweeping past him, she unlocked the door and beckoned him inside. "You must be Ronald Knox, hm?"

"Yes, Senior Sutcliffe," Ronald said promptly, with a winning smile and a cheerful wave. Grell smirked, turning back to face him and putting a hand on her hip. He was rather endearing. Less blatantly nervous than most Juniors, and he was looking at her like an enthusiastic, eager puppy.

"All right, dear. First of all, I'm your mentor, not your teacher. Just Grell is fine. Second, I don't have a whole lot of rules." She wasn't as strict as William, but not as lax as Eric, either. "Just listen when I tell you to do something, and treat me with the respect a lady deserves, and we'll get along fine."

She could practically see the wheels in Ronald's head turning behind his wide, bright eyes. The paperwork he'd been given to let him know his assigned mentor had referred to her as male, so it would be interesting to see how he reacted to this. Grell bit back a giggle. It never grew old, messing with the Juniors, but if they'd just put the proper pronouns on her paperwork it would stop being an issue altogether. Unfortunately, Will was too much of a hardass to bother. She watched as Ronald blinked once or twice, but then the younger reaper grinned and said with utter sincerity, "All right, Miss Grell."

Not a hint of mockery. Not a single mote of sarcasm. That was it. Grell was definitely fond of Ronald Knox. She neatened up her desk and beckoned to him, heading for the door. "Come on, pup. Let's get our lists for the day and see if you can keep up."

xXx

A month later, and Ronald was still around.

William had actually been impressed with him for staying this long, considering he had Grell for a mentor, but that was about the only thing Will was impressed with. Ronald was a partier, a flirt, and had General Affairs wrapped around his finger in three days. He got his work done on time, but that was just to avoid overtime so he could go to parties. But somehow, he and Grell seemed to keep each other in line, and that suited the overworked supervisor just fine.

One evening midweek, when Ronald didn't have a party to go to, mentor and mentee were both in the maintenance room, looking after their deathscythes. Ronald had quickly learned that Grell did all the upgrades to her scythe on her own, and had quite an affinity for motors and tinkering.

"So, Grell-senpai…" That was another thing. Despite almost no one else bothering to do so, Ronald continued to call her 'Miss Grell' when he wasn't calling her 'senpai'. It was terribly endearing. "What do I have to do to get my scythe upgraded?"

Grell looked up from where she was cleaning the chain of her scythe, grinning. "Well, obviously there's a massive packet of paperwork to fill out. Will has to approve it, then it has to go through the Head of Maintenance, and it can be rejected at any point. For no real reason, even." She shrugged, tossing her ponytail back over her shoulder from where it had slid down. "What do you want to do to it?"

"I'd just like to make the engine a bit more powerful. Maybe some sharper or bigger blades. Nothing too flashy. I don't rely totally on it, anyway." It was a well-kept secret in the department that Ronald kept some sort of knife on his person at all times. Whether it was a switchblade or a pocketknife or that one time Grell had seen him playing with a butterfly knife, it was almost always safely in his inside jacket pocket. Technically that was against regulations, but Grell wasn't telling.

"Bigger blades would take paperwork, and so would a different engine. But we can tweak the engine some without going through Maintenance first." She reached over and tugged the scythe out of Ronald's lap, flipping it over and beginning to work.

Ronald just leaned in to watch, impressed. "Wow, thanks, Miss Grell!"

Grell grinned. "You've earned it, pup. You've been a good mentee." And she didn't say that about just anyone. But Ronald Knox looked like he was turning out to be a damn fine reaper, if she did say so herself.


	5. Binding

A/N: This was originally written for the Reaper Kink Meme started by some of the lovely writers over on Tumblr. I figured I'd start claiming some of mine, since I am rather proud of them. X'D

Summary: _"You're enjoying this quite a bit. And you didn't want to do it!"_

* * *

**Binding**

"Is this really necessary?"

Alan stared up at him with ridiculous puppy eyes, the kind Eric couldn't say no to even if he wanted to, and the older reaper sighed tiredly. "All right, all right, I guess it is."

"You promised, Eric." Alan admonished, a smile on his face. "It's my birthday, and you said that you'd let me tie you up."

"I didn't even realize you were into that." Eric commented, raising an eyebrow. He sat down on the end of the bed, undoing his tie and tossing it on top of the dresser. "Seriously, when did you develop a kink for bondage?"

Alan only smiled, going over and retrieving the tie. "Come on, it'll be fun. Just take your shirt off."

Begrudgingly, the blond shinigami took off his work shirt, kicking off his shoes for good measure. This was pointless. Sure, he was always willing to let Alan experiment, but he couldn't imagine his partner, who had blushed as red as a cherry every time they kissed for almost a month after they started dating, being any good at something like bondage. That was more Sutcliffe's territory, and the chances of Alan asking the redhead for advice were very small.

But he lay down without complaint, letting Alan tie one of his wrists to the headboard with his own tie. The younger reaper took off his bolo, using it to bind Eric's other wrist, and sat back with that stupidly endearing smile of his. "There!"

Eric rolled his eyes. "Okay… Now what?" He still couldn't imagine Alan taking the lead in something like this. Odds were, the younger reaper would get halfway through whatever silly thing he was planning, and would get flustered and be unable to continue. He watched Alan get up and cross the room, picking up a long length of black fabric before returning to his side. When Alan reached for him, he realized what it was, and promptly balked. "Wait, wait, what? You didn't say anything about blindfolding me!"

Alan promptly pouted. "Please?"

"Alan…"

"Eric, please?"

"Oh, bloody hell. Fine. Just stop pouting at me. You look like I've killed your puppy." Rolling his eyes yet again, Eric submitted to the fabric being tied over his eyes, and to the two or three minutes Alan spent adjusting it to make sure that his partner couldn't see at _all._

Grinning now that Eric couldn't see him, Alan crawled down to the end of the bed and peeled his lover's socks off, excruciatingly slowly. He knew that Eric thought all of this was silly and pointless, but he was determined to prove the other wrong. He'd asked Ronald, out of idle curiosity, if any of his many, many flings had enjoyed bondage, and Ronald had told him to ask Grell. So he'd worked up his nerve and asked the senior reaper, who had been absolutely delighted to explain the basics. He'd even lent Alan the blindfold, claiming that the fabric was perfect because it wasn't see-through. As the brunet shinigami started on Eric's trousers, he noticed the other making a face, and asked curiously, "What's wrong?"

Eric frowned, asking suspiciously, "Why does this blindfold smell like Grell's perfume?" When Alan replied with a too-innocent-sounding 'No idea…', Eric realized that he might possibly be in for more than he realized. "Did you seriously ask _Grell _about this?"

"Maybe…" Alan said vaguely, pulling down the trousers and Eric's undergarments, leaving him bare. "Wait there for a second."

"Yeesh, Alan. What's gotten into ya?" Unwilling to admit that he was now nervous, considering that _Grell_ had clearly had some influence on the evening's events, he tugged halfheartedly at the bindings. But one of Alan's hands settled on his wrist, and then the younger's lips were on his.

Alan kissed…calmly. He wasn't wild or rough about it, but he was thorough, and Eric loved kissing his partner almost more than actual sex. But bound down as he was, when Alan pulled away, he couldn't follow or yank him back. Alan chuckled, nudging him to tilt his head so that he could kiss along Eric's jaw and suck on the sensitive spot under his ear. A tremor shuddered through Eric's body, and Alan smiled against his skin, running his hands over Eric's chest. "Let's see…" He pulled away again, this time completely, and Eric was left in suspense as to what the other would do next.

Rummaging through the nightstand drawer, where he'd left all of the things he intended to "play" with, Alan kept glancing at Eric's expression in amusement, watching him get more and more unnerved. "Senior Sutcliffe had quite a few suggestions for what to do with you. She was carrying on about _knives _at one point; can you imagine?" He knew Eric could. The only reason he'd mentioned it was to work him up even more. And if the half-hard erection the older reaper was sporting was any indication, he was succeeding. But what he took out of the drawer was nothing so dramatic as a knife. Just a simple feather. Better to start slow, after all.

He shifted to sit beside Eric again, noting how much more nervous he looked than before. "Alan, you're not seriously taking sex advice from that masochist, are ya?"

"Maybe," he replied again, reaching out to run the feather down Eric's neck lightly. His partner twitched violently at the touch, and he couldn't help but laugh a bit. "You're rather jumpy."

"Well with you going on about knives…!" Eric squirmed, tugging at the restraints as Alan dragged the feather farther down, circling his nipples teasingly.

Alan chuckled. "I wouldn't take a knife to you." He trailed the feather over the older reaper's stomach. Eric wasn't ticklish, but he was sensitive, and it was obvious that the teasing touches were affecting him. He ran the tip of the feather up the underside of Eric's cock, enjoying the choked groan he received, and then twirled it around the tip and watched droplets of pre-cum collect on it. "You're enjoying this quite a bit. And you didn't want to do it!"

"I didn't-" But Eric was cut off by another moan as Alan kissed the tip of his cock and then disappeared again. He lay there, trying to catch his breath, near-painfully hard at this point and wondering what his partner was going to do next. When Alan's hands returned to smooth over his chest and once again tweak his nipples, he realized that they were just slightly rougher than usual. The brunet clearly had on some sort of silk gloves or something, and Eric desperately wished he could see. But honestly, he could understand why Alan had done it. Taking away one sense, it heightened all the others, and his lover's touches were far more potent than usual because of it.

Alan grinned as he reached down to wrap a gloved hand around Eric's cock and start stroking, the friction causing the older reaper to groan loudly and buck his hips violently. "Geeze, Alan-!"

"Oh? Are you close?"

"Y-Yes… God… Just keep…!"

But Alan promptly stopped, wrapping his fingers firmly around the base, and Eric actually whimpered as he was denied release.

"Alan!"

The younger's voice was devious as he said brightly, "If you want to come, then admit that you're enjoying this. And beg me."

"W-What?" But even though he squirmed and struggled, neither the knots nor Alan's grip loosened. He held out for another minute, and then yelped raggedly, "All right, all right! This was a good idea! Bloody hell, Alan, please just let me come now!"

Alan thought about it just long enough for Eric to whimper one last time, then resumed stroking, speeding up his pace until Eric cried out and slumped against the bed, his cum staining Alan's gloves. Alan stripped the gloves off, then crawled up and began untying his lover's wrists. "See, that wasn't so bad…"

As soon as he had one hand free, Eric reached up and yanked the blindfold off, then pulled his partner down for a kiss. "Yes," he conceded between kisses, "that was fun. But…" And he reached down to grope at Alan's own hard cock.

"I get to tie you up next time."


	6. Inverse

A/N: An experiment in character that may or may not have succeeded. X'D Or, Sebastian and William are remarkably similar.

Summary: _"I don't need shows of affection from a soul-stealing vermin."_

* * *

**Inverse**

Grell giggled, following along behind her prey as he ran headlong through the streets of London. Human beings were ridiculous. Always so frightened of death. Although, she supposed this one had good reason to listen to his instincts, since technically his time wasn't up yet. But either way, he was going to die today. Running wasn't going to save him.

She hopped off the roof she'd been crossing, landing in front of him with a click of red stiletto boots. "Did you really think you could get away?" she taunted. The man screamed, and Grell was on him in a second, one hand over his mouth as long, sharp red nails made quick work of ripping out his vocal cords. He gurgled and spluttered helplessly, crimson blood pouring from his ruined throat and soaking Grell's front, and the redhead grinned wickedly. Razor teeth glinted as she coaxed his soul out into the open, popping it into her mouth with a content hum.

"_Delicious!_"

Tossing the body aside, she looked down at herself, grinning at the amount of brilliant red blood she was splattered with. Oh, she looked _divine_! Even William wouldn't be able to deny that! And here he was now. She beamed up at him as he hopped off another rooftop, followed closely by Ronald, who was still learning the basics.

"Sutcliffe, so help me, what have I told you?" William said dryly, smacking her in the back of the head.

Grell clutched her head, whining. "But Wiiiiilllllll… I just wanted a snack!"

William rolled his eyes. "There are guidelines for a reason, Sutcliffe. It is far more organized to form proper contracts, not to mention highly advisable, as there is little that reapers can do in such a situation." Of course, William did things properly, and was currently in the middle of his own contract, as indicated by the mark on his hand beneath his gloves. Some kid called Thomas Wallis…

Ronald was eyeing the gory mess that was what was left of the man uneasily. "Couldn't you be a little neater, Grell-senpai?" Poor thing, too young to have gotten over the initial squeamishness.

"Absolutely not! My kills are works of art!" Grell gasped, pirouetting on one foot. "And as for the reapers, bah! That just means I might have the opportunity to see my Sebas-" But before she could finish the affectionate nickname, a knife sailed past her face, embedding itself into a nearby wall. All three demons turned on the newcomer, eyes glinting red. William huffed, spitting distastefully, "_Michaelis_."

Dressed in a proper-looking black coat, the reaper frowned down at them, sharp green eyes taking in both the demons' presence and the mutilated body nearby. Sebastian Michaelis was a member of the Collections' division of the Shinigami Dispatch Society, and quite frankly, was getting tired of dealing with this group of demons. For many reasons. But first and foremost…

"Sebas-chan!" Grell cried, beaming. Were it physically possible, the redheaded demon would have been radiating hearts.

Sebastian rolled his eyes, adjusting his tutor-like glasses and scowling. "I don't have time for your foolishness, Grell. Are you the one who consumed this soul?"

"Well, yes, but I don't see why you have to be so curt with me! You didn't even let me _try_ to flirt!"

"I don't need shows of affection from a soul-stealing vermin," Sebastian sighed. "But it would do the society good if I was able to eliminate you."

William growled. "I have a contract to continue. I refuse to allow a reaper to waste my time. Come along, Ronald Knox." Before Sebastian could react, the other two demons were gone, bounding away over the rooftops in the direction of William's contractor's home. Sebastian turned his attention to Grell in their absence, and the redhead struck a pose.

"Now that they're gone, what do you say, Sebas-chan? I'm sure I could show you a _sinfully_ good time!" she said flirtatiously. This was promptly followed by a yelp as she was forced to dodge another knife. "_Hey_! Stop aiming for my face!"

"I know better than to give in to your tricks, demon. Form a proper contract, and I wouldn't technically have reason to attack you, and your _precious face_ would be much safer," the reaper said, sounding bored. "Now go, before I opt to start taking you seriously and put a knife in your head."

Grell pouted. "You're no fun!" But she took the hint, taking back to the rooftops and away.

Sebastian rolled his eyes. Another day, another instance of Grell being entirely inappropriate in his presence. Transferring to Wales was starting to look like a valid option. He headed back to the office to write up his report of the stolen soul, knowing it would mean a pile of paperwork for some unfortunate shinigami in the Secretarial division.

Really. What troublesome things demons were.


	7. Blade

A/N: Another from the Kink Meme. I tried to write it as Eric and Alan, but this ended up working much better.

Summary: _"There's nothing to be ashamed of, Alan."_

* * *

**Blade**

One thing Alan was perfectly certain of was that he loved Eric. He had always loved Eric, ever since that first reap they went on when he became a Junior, and Eric had shown him an understanding that no other reaper ever had. And Eric loved him back. They were as happy as they could be, considering Alan's soul was being strangled slowly, bit by bit. But no, love was never in question. He loved Eric.

And that was why he had to lie to him.

"Tilt your head forward."

Alan obeyed, letting the length of fabric be fastened over his eyes.

It wasn't that he was unfaithful to Eric, he reminded himself, as nimble fingers began undoing his clothing. He just…needed this, and Eric wouldn't understand. He'd bluster and worry and be his overprotective self. And while Alan loved that protective streak in him, this was something that he couldn't properly explain.

When his jacket, vest, and shirt had been peeled away, the hands settled on his shoulders, guiding him across the room. "Arms up, darling."

It was a familiar pose, and Alan raised his arms without complaint, letting the padded cuffs be hooked around his wrists and to the chain he knew dangled from the ceiling, keeping his arms suspended over his head. There was enough slack that he was comfortable, and a hand ruffled his hair fondly. "Do you want a gag?"

Alan shook his head. Not today.

"You know the safe words?"

"Yellow for less, blue to stop completely." Blue was for 'freeze', he'd said originally, since red for 'stop' wasn't a particularly good choice in these circumstances. He heard a hum of agreement, then listened as footsteps tapped along the floor to stop behind him. Even though he knew what was coming, he still yelped at the first slow slice down his back.

Whatever anyone said about Senior Sutcliffe, he knew what he was doing. As insane as he seemed sometimes, he was very good with this sort of thing, and that was why Alan had come to him. The older shinigami had had a soft spot for him since Alan's last year at the Academy, and had been willing to listen to the potentially strange request of the Junior. It wasn't technically sex; Grell had been adamant in assuring him that he wasn't betraying Eric. Occasionally the redhead would look after him; it was fairly standard for a kink like this. But he asked nothing of Alan in return, and the younger was exceedingly grateful.

He keened quietly as Grell drew the blade down his back, feeling blood dripping slowly from the wound, running down sensitive skin. Alan wasn't sure where Grell had gotten a death scythe in the design of a Bowie knife, but it suited their purpose rather well. He'd heal too quickly from such shallow cuts if they were only made by a regular, human blade. And he needed to feel them.

"Relax, Alan, darling," Grell crooned, letting his free hand run across Alan's shoulders, massaging his neck lightly. "Just feel."

He really didn't have much of a choice. Every drag of the sharp edge against his skin toed the fine line between pain and pleasure, and he tried very hard not to squirm. Grell wouldn't hesitate to bind him further, especially after the redhead had almost stabbed him once because he'd jerked unexpectedly. But he couldn't control all of his body's reactions to what was being done to him. Originally, becoming aroused from something like this had embarrassed him, but Grell had explained that everyone had something that set them off. Alan's just happened to be knifeplay, and there was nothing wrong with that.

"_Really, dear," Grell had said, ignoring Alan's gasp as he palmed the front of the brunet's trousers, "there are worse things to be aroused by. Believe me…"_

He gasped sharply, unable to stop from jerking as Grell began to make tiny cuts, focusing around the center of his back. The sensations were intense, the cuts terribly close together, and finally he gasped out, "Yellow…!"

Grell hummed, showing that he'd heard, and the next cut was long and sweeping, trailing towards his lower back. "My apologies, dearest~ Better?" Alan nodded, and Grell pressed a kiss to the back of his shoulder. "I really must thank you, darling. It's lovely of you to allow me to play like this. Not many people would trust me to paint them in such a rich red~"

"You're the only one…I could ask…" Alan managed, taking a deep breath as Grell continued. His erection pressed painfully against the front of his trousers, and he squirmed slightly. The slow, lazy pace continued, until he whispered, "More…" Not being able to see only made all of the sensations worse, and his voice was wavery, caught between pleasure and pain.

Grell purred, and he returned to the center of his back, working in a circle around that original spot, gradually expanding. His free hand crept around to press against Alan's chest, thumb just barely brushing a stiffened nipple. "Excited, are we? Shall I give you release at the freeze?"

Moans replaced any coherent words Alan might have had, and he was only able to nod weakly. The cuts continued, and at last, he couldn't take anymore. "B-Bl…Blue~!" he wailed, tears in his eyes.

His senior tossed the knife aside, reaching up to loosen the cuffs and guide Alan down to the floor to lean against him. He worked the younger reaper's pants open, wrapping a hand slick with blood around him and tossing him off with quick, easy strokes. Alan whimpered, crying out as the pleasure peaked and he came hard, white mixing with the red blood, staining the floor. Grell held him for a minute, letting him come down from his high, and then went to retrieve a warm, damp cloth and a bit of antiseptic.

When he returned, Alan was staring at the floor, looking guilty. He'd removed the blindfold, and the fabric sat in a sad little heap next to him. The redhead 'tsk'ed and knelt beside him, beginning to gently clean off his back. "There's nothing to be ashamed of, Alan."

"I just…" Alan mumbled. "It's something that I can control. Pain I can control. You'll stop if I tell you, there's safewords and medicine and…" He stared at the bottle of antiseptic for a moment before glancing at the bloody knife. "It's safe. It's not like…"

"I know." Grell said, dabbing gingerly at his wounds. He understood. The Thorns ate at the younger, caused him pain near-constantly, never relented, never backed off. If Alan needed to feel in-control of his own body, Grell would indulge him. It was a lovely opportunity to play, and like Ronald, Alan was one of his darling Juniors. He'd do anything for them. "These will heal up in a day or two. Just take it easy, dear."

"Yes, Senior Sutcliffe…" Alan murmured, moving to change into the spare pair of trousers he'd brought along. Grell watched him get dressed for a moment, then moved to give him a hug, feeling maternal.

"I mean it, twerp. Don't let Eric run you ragged on missions."

That earned a smile, and Alan nodded. "I won't."

xXx

When he reached his and Eric's flat, he was exhausted. Eric wasn't there when he returned, but he was too tired to wait up, assuming his lover had just gone on a walk and would return soon. He was too sleepy to notice that Eric's deathscythe wasn't in its usual position up against the wall beside Alan's.

As he curled up in bed, beginning to drift off to sleep, he tried to shake off the last of his ill thoughts. He didn't like keeping things a secret from Eric. But everyone had secrets, didn't they? Even lovers.

He could only assume there was something Eric wasn't telling him, as well.


	8. Under the Sea

A/N: Written for the prompts "the beach" and "nap" over on the Shinigami Scribblings tumblr. I managed to get both in one fill!

Summary: _It had been a while since he had last gotten to sit and enjoy a book for any length of time…_

* * *

**Under the Sea**

They had dragged him to the beach. It wasn't that William didn't like the beach, it was that he didn't like the beach when his obnoxious coworkers were around. But when Ronald and Eric found out that all of them had the day off, they'd begged and pleaded and cajoled, and William had finally agreed when Alan asked very politely if he would accompany them.

In the twenty-first century it was even harder to find somewhere that there were no humans around, but they managed to port to a relatively quiet beach on the southeast coast of America where only a handful of families were spending the day. William and Alan set up large beach umbrellas, spread out towels, and settled down to read, while Eric, Ronald, and Grell flung themselves into the ocean to catch waves with a boogie board they'd dug up from somewhere.

It was actually rather pleasant, Will had to admit. Though there were children, they seemed to be quiet and well-behaved, and were far enough down the beach not to be a distraction. It wasn't overwhelmingly hot, there was a nice breeze off the water, and Alan had packed a cooler of iced tea that was perfectly chilled. It had been a while since he had last gotten to sit and enjoy a book for any length of time.

Eventually, Eric returned to shore, and he and Alan went on a walk to hunt for seashells. Will set his book aside and laid back on his towel, listening to the ocean and contemplating the umbrella above him. This was quite relaxing. His eyes started to drift closed, and the last thought that wisped across his mind was that a nap couldn't hurt…

…someone's fingers were in his hair. Someone's fingers were in his hair, and someone was singing. What on earth? A wordless, crooning melody was filling the air around him, and he blinked his eyes open, his vision hazy from sleep. When he could focus, he realized it was Grell stretched out beside him on the towel, leaning over him and singing quietly as she finger-combed his no-longer-neat hair.

"Sutcliffe, what, pray tell, are you doing?"

Grell smiled radiantly. "My prince is awake!" She snuggled up against him, and he blinked in confusion.

"What?"

"Honestly, Will, haven't you ever seen _The Little Mermaid_? It's a classic!" Grell huffed. "You really need to come to Ronnie's Disney marathons one night."

"I don't have time for frivolity like cartoons, Sutcliffe." But he glanced over at her curiously. "I suppose you've cast yourself as the princess, then?"

Grell giggled. "Oh, of course! She has the loveliest red hair in the movie~ Although she's a bit naïve for my tastes. Really, it took her far too long to win over her man!"

Deciding that he didn't want to know, William shrugged, picking his book back up. "I suppose you know better." He flipped back to his spot, continuing, "You may stay so long as you do not distract me from my reading."

Grell lit up, swooping in to place a kiss on his cheek before stretching out beside him just outside of the patch of shade from the umbrella. She could work on her tan, and get to be near her William! How wonderful~

William was surprised to find that she did keep quiet until Alan and Eric returned from their hunt, seashells filling the plastic bucket they'd brought along. Ronald came in from catching waves, and they all settled down to eat the lunch that Eric had packed. And Will thought to himself that maybe, just maybe, going on a vacation with his coworkers wasn't such an ordeal after all.


	9. Captivity

A/N: Another kink meme prompt. This one is long, because it was originally posted in five parts. X'D Someone requested all the reapers and Sebastian, and I had a good enough idea to oblige. X'D

Summary: _He definitely has to get out of here soon, or these reapers are going to drive him mad._

* * *

**Captivity**

It hadn't been…intentional, at least. In the aftermath of the completion of his contract with Ciel Phantomhive, he'd overindulged his demonic tendencies just a bit. This contract had been the longest he'd ever been under another's thumb before, and the desire to cause destruction and mayhem had been too strong to ignore once he was finally free.

But after the number of people he killed, he supposes that the reapers had no choice but to take notice and bring him in. They took his tailcoat and shirt, leaving his upper half naked, locked him in a cell, and left him there, bound in cuffs partially made of holy steel, hands shackled to the wall and feet chained to the floor. He has enough slack to sit, but that's all.

For weeks, there's no word, and he assumes that the shinigami who hold the highest positions are trying to decide what to do with him. But in the meantime, he has to deal with the lower ranking reapers, sent to ensure that he's still alive in his prison.

The first, to his great surprise, is William T. Spears.

William says nothing when he first enters, staring down at Sebastian in something like a combination between disgust and satisfaction. "Demon," he says at last, the only greeting Sebastian is going to get.

"Mr. Spears." Sebastian replies, matching the other's dry tone perfectly. "What a surprise for _you_ to visit me."

William rolls his eyes. "This is not a courtesy visit. I've simply come to inform you that the Board will likely not decide your fate for a long time. They have more important things to do than worry about the fate of one out-of-control demon." Despite his neutral expression, that hint of satisfaction is still present in his voice.

"And I suppose you'd be unwilling to simply let me out?" Sebastian asks, one eyebrow raised. "I am a high-ranking demon. My absence combined with my lack of a contract will not go unnoticed Below forever."

"You will remain here until proper consequences are decided for your actions." William's expression is shifting to something vaguely smug, and that's when Sebastian glances down and realizes that the reaper is, for some inexplicable reason, aroused.

He bites back a laugh. "Really?" With a tilt of his head, he indicates the man's tented pants. "Are you truly affected by my being chained up like this? I would expect that from Grell, not you."

William, to his credit, doesn't rise to the bait and become angry. "Some of us are more specific in our tastes. I'm certain a filthy whore of a demon will take anything that moves." His voice is cold, but one hand has shifted to rub at the lump in his trousers.

"I'm afraid you mistake my nature entirely."

"Whoring yourself out in return for souls?" William counters flatly. "Sex does not always have to enter the equation. Your services are obviously of a different sort, sometimes." His hand is still moving steadily. "You have no idea how satisfying it is to see vermin like you put in their place."

"I think I can guess." Sebastian quips, amused at the irony of William's comment regarding sex. He doesn't avert his eyes when William unzips his trousers and pulls out his hard cock, stroking more earnestly now. He meets the shinigami's eyes, defiant and amused, and that only seems to make William more determined. The normally-professional man strokes himself harder and faster, not a single noise leaving his lips. His eyes focus determinedly on the chains, clearly getting off on the idea of having power, having an upper hand over one of these foul hell-beasts, especially a high-ranked one. And when he comes, he makes sure it goes all over the seated demon's face.

Sebastian says nothing, never looking away or giving any indication that William's actions have bothered him. Internally, he's thinking how disgusting it is that the mess will dry in his hair, but he keeps his expression blank and neutral. This seems to frustrate William, who tucks himself away and leaves without another word.

xXx

A week later, the door to his cell opens again, and Sebastian meets the green-yellow eyes of a reaper he's never seen before. This one is younger, brown hair longer and feathering loosely around his face. He could be pretty and appealing, if Sebastian had a kink for shinigami. But he doesn't, and he meets this one with the same blank expression he'd shown William. "Has a decision been reached?" he asks neutrally.

"No." The answer is sharp, too quick, and Sebastian can sense nervousness and anger from the small, frail-looking shinigami.

"Then why are you here?"

The young one doesn't answer for a long moment, and when he finally speaks, it's a question. "Do you feel anything?"

Sebastian raises an eyebrow. So many ways to interpret that, but he chooses an obvious one. "Of course I do. Demons are not emotionless."

A frown mars the other's face. "You cannot feel in the same way as other beings, then. Otherwise you wouldn't have mercilessly slaughtered over one-hundred people!" His anger was rising, but the demon still couldn't fathom why. "Did you ever think of those people? Innocent souls, ripped from life before they were ready, cast adrift into Death, afraid and alone…"

"Ah…" Sebastian says, a glimmer of understanding in his eyes. "You sympathize with mortals." He listens for a moment to the young reaper splutter, and then continues, "The faceless herds do not matter to me. The only one I feel for is my current master, and as of now, I have none." He looks over the brown-haired boy, for he was a child compared to a being of Sebastian's age, one last time. Then he says, casual despite knowing the barb in his words, "Strange, little reaper. You seem to have two souls in you."

The shinigami's eyes widen, and he stands in shock for a moment before storming over, summoning his death scythe and ramming the end of the handle into Sebastian's chest, knocking him back against the wall. Sebastian mentally curses; so long bound in holy steel is sapping his strength. Not that he can move terribly much, not enough to fight back, in any case. He grits his teeth as the other slams the head of the slasher into him, leaving a deep gash across his chest.

"How do you like it?" the younger demands furiously. "Pain and suffering, your kind enjoy that, right?"

"Everything in moderation~" Sebastian manages to sneer.

The reaper snarls, pushing the blade of his scythe against Sebastian's throat, keeping him against the wall as he claws Sebastian's pants open with his free hand. "You know _nothing_ of pain and fear!" His anger is getting the better of him, driving his actions as he reaches into Sebastian's open pants and grasps his cock. Sebastian is almost ashamed to admit it, but after such a long time without such contact, it isn't difficult for the determined shinigami to get him hard. But something as simple as a handjob isn't enough to keep him from striking back with words. "A reaper afraid of death?" he guesses. "How pathetic."

"Shut up!" Working his hand furiously, the child manages to successfully silence the demon by sheer sensation. Sebastian, deprived of such contact as he is, still manages to not be outdone by William, and is silent save for a deep breath when he comes. His semen splashes over his chest, and it takes all of his willpower not to grimace at the knowledge that it will dry and crust just like the cum still on his face and hair. "Pathetic," the shinigami says bitterly. "You can rot here and consider how it feels to have things done to you against your will. I honestly hope you die." He leaves as well, and Sebastian shifts somewhat uncomfortably. To his surprise, he feels a certain amount of shame for having let a shinigami, and a mere child at that, do such a thing to him. He can justify it with the chains all he wants, but it doesn't push away the feeling of revulsion at being so weak.

He needs to get out of here soon.

xXx

Oddly enough, another reaper appears only half an hour or so after the young one has left. This one is unfamiliar as well, with the strangest hairstyle. Cornrows on one side and long and wavy on the other. Sebastian raises an eyebrow at him as the other stops and stares at the demon's debauched appearance. But to his credit the shinigami recovers quickly, and demands, "What did you do to Alan?"

"Alan?" Sebastian questions. He can only assume the name refers to the young shinigami, and is proven right when the newcomer speaks again.

"He was in here earlier. Had a coughing fit almost as soon as he left, and I'm assuming you had something t'do with it." Raking his eyes over Sebastian, he asks, "And jeeze, who else got to ya? You look awful."

Sebastian glances down at the blood and semen dried on his chest and responds wryly, "That would be your Alan's work. I think I said a few things he took offense to."

"Alan did that?" The shinigami gapes at him.

"Yes. I mentioned something about being able to sense two souls in him, and he attacked me. I think the, ah, handjob was an attempt at feeling like he had power over me." It was strange, how similar he had been to William, though they had expressed their feelings of superiority over the demon in two different ways.

"Two souls…" The shinigami sits, looking stuck between amused and distressed. "Yeah, you'd be right about that. He's sick, badly sick. That's why I don't like 'im to get all worked up." He cracks a smile. "I'm Eric Slingby. You?"

"Sebastian Michaelis."

Eric chuckles. "Not your real name, clearly. You're that one that Sutcliffe likes, though. And I can see why." He leans forward. "Tell me, hottie, what would you do to have a hand free?"

Sebastian considers him for a moment. This reaper just seems to enjoy talking, and Sebastian can't particularly see him going back on an offer, even of something like that. "I'm assuming you had something in mind, if you're asking such a thing?"

Laughing, Eric continues to grin. "Well, I'll admit, I've always been a bit curious about demons. Lustful hell-beasts and all that. They strike me as being rather talented in those areas."

"You're thinking of incubi and succubae."

"Eh, I think all of you could use sex as a means to get what you wanted." Eric says, smirking. "And I think right now, you'd like to have a free hand."

"Such a lot of trouble for one free hand." Sebastian comments flatly.

Eric gets up and disappears into the hallway for a moment, returning with a cloth and a bowl of water. "A free hand would let you clean yourself up. Imagine if Sutcliffe came in and saw ya like this."

Sebastian cringes in agreement, not even wanting to consider how Grell would react. "So long as you are not as rough as Mr. Alan… I'd rather not bleed any more today," he says carefully, masking his eagerness to have a free hand. Such a thing would go a long way towards getting out of here, as none of these reapers seemed to realize how powerful he truly was. It also wouldn't do to get any more injured. The holy steel is dampening his usual abilities, including his healing. If he continued to bleed everywhere, it wouldn't be long before he was too weak to stand up to even a novice reaper.

For a moment, he wonders if Eric has seen through his intentions, but the reaper gets to his feet and unzips his pants. "Since the deal is a free hand after you satisfy my curiosity, I suppose you'll have to use your mouth for now."

Sebastian stares at him distastefully for a moment, reminds himself that this is part of a greater goal to get free, and shifts enough to take Eric's cock in his mouth. The shinigami doesn't taste…unpleasant, but a reaper is definitely not Sebastian's first choice of sexual partner. But being friends with incubi had taught him a thing or two, and hopefully this would be over quickly.

He bobs his head at an even pace, careful not to let his fangs scrape against skin. He doubts that Eric will hold up his end of the bargain if Sebastian damages him. Twisting his tongue around the head the way he learned from a particularly talented incubus, he forces himself not to gag when Eric's hips jerk forward.

"You are… awfully good at this." Eric says, his breath catching a bit. Sebastian doesn't respond, doesn't look up, just continues the motions of his lips and tongue. He knows how good he is; men and women alike have succumbed for various reasons over the centuries. Most recently, the naïve little virgin at the cultists' church, though that was for information, not pleasure.

He keeps pace when Eric begins to rock his hips, marginally grateful that demons tend to not have gag reflexes, or this would be far more unpleasant than it already is. Running his tongue up the vein on the underside of Eric's cock, he laps at the slit for a moment before taking the whole thing in his mouth again. He can tell the reaper is close, and he sucks determinedly, wanting his hand free so he can clean up and escape.

Eric isn't obnoxious about his orgasm. He groans once, low, mumbles something that might have been a name, and pulls away from Sebastian almost immediately afterwards. "Damn…" he says, and that's all. He doesn't make eye contact; both of them know that this isn't something they want to mention ever again. Eric could get in enough trouble for doing such a thing on the job, and Sebastian has a reputation to maintain. The reaper tucks himself away, straightens his clothes, and unlocks one of Sebastian's hands, nudging the bowl of water within reach. "There. Deal's a deal."

"I suppose you don't want your, ah, lover to know about this?" Sebastian smirks at him, taking the bowl and the accompanying cloth.

"What?"

"Alan. It was his name you mumbled, was it not?" Enhanced hearing came in quite handy sometimes.

Eric makes a face, turning away almost awkwardly. "He's not my lover." He heads for the door. "Clean yourself up while you can. The next person to check on you might just chain you back up again." And he's gone without another word. Sebastian wets the cloth and starts working at the dried blood around his wound, hoping that losing one cuff might lessen the dampening effect on his healing enough to start fixing the gash.

xXx

Despite Eric's words, he's left alone for weeks. The time doesn't matter to him; he's lived for centuries. A few weeks are nothing, and it gives him the time he needs to finally snap the cuff off of his other wrist. Holy steel is strong and designed to hold those native to Hell, but pure holy steel would burn them beyond tolerance. The cuffs are an alloy, and the measure of holy steel versus normal metal is enough to hold a regular demon. Not one as powerful as him.

He's started on one of the shackles around his feet when he hears the door opening. Thankfully he's clean this time, and the gash in his chest is almost completely healed. But when he realizes who is standing in the doorway, he can't help the exasperated sigh that crosses his lips.

"What do you want?"

Grell hums, pressing himself against the doorframe. "I came to see you, Sebas-chan~" he croons. "Haven't you been bored and lonely, down here all by yourself?"

"Not particularly." He prefers solitude to the company of reapers that seem to be far stranger than he'd originally thought.

Taking a few steps into the cell, Grell looks him over contemplatively. "My, my, who unchained your hands? I doubt that's allowed. You're supposed to be locked up _tight_~" he giggles. "No matter~ The holy steel in the shackles will still have weakened you quite a bit." Sebastian is about to object to the comment about his weakness, but Grell tackles him before he can, sitting on his stomach and running gloved hands over his chest and up to his shoulders to push him to the floor. "Now I've got you~"

Sebastian is disturbed to find that he's not quite strong enough to force Grell off of him at this point. He stares up at the grinning, flamboyant shinigami and glares, though it only makes Grell shiver. "Get off of me, now, Grell Sutcliffe."

"Why would I do that?" Grell purrs happily, leaning down to plant kisses along his jaw, throat, and collarbones. The red reaper's gloved hands run down his sides, and then Grell is tossing the gloves away, running bare palms over his chest. "I finally have an opportunity to play with you, Sebas-chan. I'm not giving it up that easily~" He palms Sebastian's cock through the demon's slacks, smirking as he feels it harden beneath his touch.

More disturbed than ever at the way his body is reacting, Sebastian tries to push Grell off, but the redhead catches his wrists with one hand. "Grell, stop."

Grell giggles again, shaking his head. "Nope~!" With his free hand, he works the button of Sebastian's slacks open, pushing them just off his hips. He lets go of Sebastian's hands, but before the demon can even consider moving, he's forced to grab for purchase, one hand grasping one of the discarded chains and the other tangling in Grell's red hair as the reaper takes his cock into his mouth whole.

He doesn't want to admit that he's enjoying this, but Grell's mouth is hot and wet, and in comparison to previous "visits" he's suffered since being taken prisoner, this is wonderful. The redhead is skilled with his tongue, swirling and flicking in all the right ways, and the tiny scrapes from his sharp teeth sting in a way that Sebastian hates to admit feels good. It's too easy to close his eyes and pretend he's back in Hell, having ordered an incubus or succubus to service him.

Too soon, that mouth pulls away, and Sebastian lays there, panting from all of the sensations. He doesn't register the rustle of clothes until Grell is back on top of him, bare from the waist down and settling gingerly onto his desperately stiff cock.

He can't bite back the groan that escapes. Grell is hot and tight, and slick, and distantly Sebastian realized that the shinigami had to have prepared himself before coming to the cell. For some reason, that only encourages his arousal, and his hips buck up against Grell's without conscious thought.

"Ooooooooh, Sebas-chan~ Yes, right there! More~!" Grell moans, bouncing eagerly on top of him. Sebastian takes hold of his hips, forcing the other down harder, making his thrusts sharper. Grell lets out a satisfied wail, rapidly stroking his own cock in time with their rhythm. For a few minutes, there is nothing but the sound of their moans and Grell's cries, and then Grell releases with a near-scream across Sebastian's chest. The way his body tightens sends Sebastian over the edge as well, and the demon groans as he fills Grell with his cum.

Grell crawls away, leaning against the closed door of the cell, out of Sebastian's reach. "How… burning hot, darling…" he says flirtatiously, a lazy smile on his face. "I do hope we can do this again soon…" He retrieves his trousers, and Sebastian just stares at him, mentally grinding to a halt. He barely sees Grell's wave or hears his cutesy "bye-bye~". All he can think is that he'd just, basically, been raped by Grell Sutcliffe, the last person on Earth he'd _ever_ intended to sleep with. And he'd enjoyed it.

Horrified with himself, he starts on the shackle around his ankle, desperately working at the metal now. He definitely has to get out of here soon, or these reapers are going to drive him mad.

xXx

With the extra burst of determination provided by Grell, by the time the door opens again a week later, Sebastian has successfully gotten the shackles around his ankles undone, and has put all the broken chains back on to wait for the next reaper to check on him, no matter how long it takes. He considers it a stroke of luck when the reaper that wanders in is Ronald Knox, a junior reaper, and one that Sebastian has encountered previously.

Ronald shuts the door behind him, though it's obviously still unlocked, and just sort of stares at him for a minute. The demon waits for him to speak, and finally asks in an exasperated voice, "Is there a reason you're in here?"

"Welllllllllll…" Ronald drawls, scratching the back of his head sheepishly. "Some of the girls in the secretarial department dared me to come in here. Promised me a blowjob." He obviously doesn't care about being vulgar in front of a demon; assuming, same as all other reapers, that demons have no shame about such things. "Actually, they dared me to come in here and poke you."

"…and you think that I will let you?" Sebastian questioned, rolling his eyes. Ronald Knox was even more of a child than Alan had been. Honestly. Intending to poke a demon, even one that you believe is chained up, in return for a blowjob was unimaginably stupid. But Ronald's overconfident stupidity was to Sebastian's advantage. "I don't think you have the nerve, reaper."

Just as Sebastian thought, Ronald immediately took offense. "You don't really have a say, do you?" he says sharply. "Chained up like that? I can do whatever I want. Not like you could stop me." He smirks, taking a few steps closer to Sebastian, thinking he had something to hold over the demon's head. "Sutcliffe-senpai was saying he did all kinds of things…"

Sebastian ignores him, determined to not think about Grell. "You are _not_ going to touch me." This one seems overconfident enough for reverse psychology to work. He can only hope he's correct in his impression. He needs Ronald close enough that the boy won't have time to summon his death scythe when Sebastian moves.

"Heh." Ronald walks right up to him, looking down with that wide grin that the demon is almost certain William probably can't stand. "I'll do whatever I like. You're the one who's a prisoner." He kneels down right in front of Sebastian to be on his level. "I know. Wouldn't it be fun to tell the secretaries that I poked a demon in the dick and left alive?" His hand darts out, aiming for Sebastian's crotch, but before he actually makes contact, he finds himself slammed face-first into the floor. When he finally reorients himself enough to sit up, the first thing he notices is the chains hanging empty. "Wha-?"

"Foolish little reaper," Sebastian snarls, hauling him to his knees by his hair. "If you weren't so focused on humiliating me for your own ego, you might have noticed that the cuffs weren't actually closed." He pulls Ronald's head back and forces the younger to look at him. "Now, open your mouth, and maybe I won't kill you." A suitable enough punishment, to take for himself the reward that Ronald had been expecting.

Eyes wide with panic, Ronald refuses for a moment, but Sebastian squeezes his jaw until he's forced to obey, and unzips his slacks with his other hand.

It's satisfying to hear Ronald choking as he fucks the boy's mouth. He's suffered too much humiliation since being taken prisoner, and while this by no means makes up for it, it's a start. He's not particularly focused on ensuring that it's the best blowjob he's ever gotten, but Ronald seems to be doing his best to keep his teeth out of the way, perhaps fearful of increasing the demon's wrath if he hurts him by accident.

Sebastian comes fairly quickly, forcing the young reaper to swallow as a final point of humiliation. After all is said and done, he knocks the boy out with a swift punch to the back of the head, and turns to face the unlocked door. He's free now, and can return to Hell without worrying about being pursued, at least for a while.

And honestly, if he never sees another reaper again, it will be no great loss.


End file.
